Hiding behind a sycamore tree to avoid the morning sun. The bird songs are quite comforting, while a steady cool breeze blows. There are the usual sounds of the day like log trucks rolling down the highway and throaty old pick up trucks hauling raggedy old trailers of lawn equipment. You can’t expect much more from a small town, even if it is the country seat. The rhythm of life pulses everywhere, both urban and rural, large and small.
There’s nothing profound going on, other than me taking a walk in the park later. I think about my friends that I don’t get to see very often. And on those days when we do get together. It’s like a giant family reunion where it’s nearly impossible to check on everyone. So as I plan for the rest of my week, I got to make a trip to Savannah. Then I got at least three doctor visits to make. So as I work on my schedule, I hope each of you has a quiet day. Where the sounds of life don’t tear through your brain. Like metal on concrete or a trucker pulling a Jake Brake.